


Would You Like to Hear It?

by CastielsProfoundBees



Series: Observatory 2b [1]
Category: Star Trek
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, I've always wanted to use that tag, M/M, Star Trek - Freeform, Tarsus IV, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-18
Updated: 2020-08-18
Packaged: 2021-03-06 09:08:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25967155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CastielsProfoundBees/pseuds/CastielsProfoundBees
Summary: “Fine is an objective term with varying meanings. Would you“ - he pauses, unsure of how to phrase it, worried that he may be overstepping - “...like to discuss it?”Jim knows that Spock is giving him an out, and that Spock would never force him to say anything outside of his comfort. The observatory is dark though and Jim has always had a hard time disappointing Spock. Mulling it over, he watches as Spock removes himself from the far corner of the room by the entrance. So Jim moves over, gestures for Spock to sit with him, and places his hand and head at his knee once more.
Relationships: James T. Kirk/Spock
Series: Observatory 2b [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1887016
Comments: 7
Kudos: 113





	Would You Like to Hear It?

“You really cared for her didn’t you?” Bone’s states, rather than asks, peering over Jim’s shoulder. He doesn’t answer of course, because to be honest, he isn’t sure. He feels pity more than anything, she will never know quite who her father was. Not truly. 

“You’re not going to answer that, are you?” 

“Warp Factor 1 helmsman, take us out of here.” Jim says instead.

He won’t.

__

Alpha shift lasts longer than the required seven hours Spock knows it to be. Instead, his attention gets hung on the slight furrow in his Captain’s brow. The unusual tension his shoulders hold. Spock would not go as far to say that he is horrified by the events of Tarsus IV, to do so would be too human. He does admit to himself that he is angry, though even that word does not seem to suffice. Angered by the mere notion of what his Captain, and other children like him, had to endure. Though something else sits with him that he cannot place. What he feels for Jim is something he attempts to ignore, meditating on it often and yet finding no real answer. When he thinks he knows what it is, it is gone before he can fully grasp it.

Eventually Alpha shift does end and he watches as his Captain quickly, but calmly, removes himself from the chair. Spock stands to approach him, closes out what he is working on at the science station, but before he has even clasped his hands the Captain is gone. He has an idea where he has fled, there are really only a few places Jim goes to be alone. 

__

Spock finds him in Observatory 2b, closest to their joint quarters, but not visited by many outside of themselves. He is sitting slouched on the middle most bench, one leg pulled to his chest to support his downcast head. Spock knows that Jim is aware of his presence, but he has made no outward indicator of any such notion. Spock calculates a 76.2% that if his company was truly unwarranted, he would be informed. 

“Captain.” 

There is a pause, before Jim tilts his head toward Spock with a small smile saying “We’re off duty, you can call me Jim, Mr. Spock.” 

“My apologies, Jim. I came to inquire of your well being.”

This earns Spock a self depreciative grin, “I’m fine Spock. It happened a long time ago.” 

“Fine is an objective term with varying meanings. Would you“ - he pauses, unsure of how to phrase it, worried that he may be overstepping - “...like to discuss it?”

Jim knows that Spock is giving him an out, and that Spock would never force him to say anything outside of his comfort. The observatory is dark though and Jim has always had a hard time disappointing Spock. Mulling it over, he watches as Spock removes himself from the far corner of the room by the entrance. So Jim moves over, gestures for Spock to sit with him, and places his hand and head at his knee once more.

“Would you like to hear about it?” Jim asks, turning the question back at him. 

Though Jim isn’t looking at him, he knows Spock has raised a pointed eyebrow, if only slightly. Jim loves when he does it, for all his Vulcan nature, it is always the little things that make Spock the most human. Loves it even more when he does it after a surprising move in chess. Even more when it's in response to a poor joke. Jim rarely beats him at chess, but that’s really not why Jim plays, is it? He feels as Spock sits next to him, close but not nearly close enough, can feel the warmth of his body.

“I am unsure of how to respond. It would be illogical to say that I would not, for it would be a lie to say I am uninterested. However, I only wish to hear of it if it will bring you… comfort.”

Jim pulls his leg closer to his chest, “It started the afternoon I stole Frank’s convertible…”

___

The wind is rushing through his hair, a cool and bright feeling. Sam has run off again, to who knows where, leaving Jim with Winona and Frank. Most of the time it wasn’t so hard, but Winona was in another fight with Frank making Jim the sole resident to shoulder the fire. He didn’t like Frank, never really did, but he disliked him greater when he was in throws with Winona. They never took much precedent in quieting their disputes, always raising their voices as loud as possible. 

“There’s nothing good about that kid, Winona! You know it!” Jim recalls Frank’s spiking and bitter tone. 

Winona was silent. 

“Dear,” Frank’s voice sweetened sickly “let’s send him off. It’ll do him good, off on that new colony where he can do some real work.

“I’m not sure, Frankie, I-”

“I’ve already bought his ticket,” Frank interjects sharply. “It was never a question, Winnie.” 

And she doesn’t stop him. 

___

“Jim, you do not have to continue should you decide not to.”

Jim looks up and makes eye contact with Spock for perhaps the first time this evening. He shrugs his shoulders and mumbles something unintelligible but vaguely “it’s alright” in tone. Spock holds his eye contact, and this seems to shake Jim out of his thoughts enough for him to begin talking again. 

“No. No it’s alright Spock. Where was I? Oh, yes- so Frank sent me off the next day to a recently settled colony on Tarsus IV. It was supposed to be beautiful, and it was for a while, even if Frank didn’t know it.”

“Beautiful?” Spock echoes. He had read what he could about the disaster, but not one described the planet as beautiful. Its record beyond tarnished.

“Yes, it was stunning. Like Earth, but warmer and brighter. The grass was greener, more blue - almost teal, the sky was a clear pale yellow.”

Nothing is said for a moment. Jim turns his head back to the observatory and the inky black sky. Stars passing so fast they were unnoticeable as anything but dashes of light. He can still feel the warmth of the body next to his, the straight posture and the focused eyes. He always appreciated his presence, the sureness of his voice and the way he carried himself. Sometimes Jim felt like a mess, childhood trauma aside, his thoughts were scattered and unorganized at the best of times. Being with Spock seemed to settle them though, drawing his mind to what’s actually important. 

“It sounds wonderful, Jim.” 

“It was, for a while. A few months into the colony, General Kodos posted an announcement via our padds. It was a simple statement honestly, we were going on rations, nothing to worry about. The next day he killed almost half of the population.” 

At this point Jim’s voice had halted and gone quiet. It was evident he was tired, not only from the mission, but from the heavy weight that he was retelling. He began to speak more, but was stopped when Spock cut him short. 

“Jim. I grieve with thee.” 

___

Days and then weeks passed, then weeks turned into months. Spock had grown closer to Jim through the time and thought of him as a close friend, if only to stop himself from wanting more. He never pried and Jim never told him more about his days on Tarsus IV. Occasionally Spock would notice Jim come back late to his quarters, presumably after a long night with the Doctor. He thought occasionally about knocking on his door, but what would he say? He had no logical reason to enter his quarters, let alone during the night. If he really had something to convey it would be only natural to do so on the bridge. Fortunately, these thoughts were cut short and the matter was resolved for him. 

There was a thrashing heard from the room over. 

For those who do not live on the Enterprise, it would be helpful to know that the walls were very thin between quarters. Despite the seemingly extensive budget Starfleet accumulated, even some cuts were made on minor things such as walling. This was usually no problem, especially for Spock, who like other species with the ability to control physical sensations, could tone it done. However, tonight there was an unsettling, really more of a continuous, thrashing of movement. It was only natural - logical honestly that Spock would be concerned. 

“Captain?” Spock questioned, walking into their joint washroom.

There was no response. Not unusual in and of itself, except for the fact that Spock knew the Captain to be a light sleeper. A common attribute among command track, not including Jim’s personal history. Something was not right and Spock knew this, except he could not calculate a strong enough reason for that to be. 

“Captain, is everything alright?” He tries again. There is nothing for a moment. 

Then, “come in.” A, albeit delayed, response

Spock enters the override for the Captain’s door easily and steps through. What he sees is not quite what he expected. Jim sits upright in his bed on the far wall from the bathroom, but he’s not situated under the covers, nor does he seem to have slept. To his left is a broken mug of coffee, though Spock calculates the percentage of it dropping from the side table a 19.4%. 

“Captain?”

Jim sighs, “I’m alright Spock. Dropped my mug, that’s all. It’s never as good replicated anyway.” He offers a meek and unconvincing grin. It says something that he does not correct. There are shadows under his eyes, Spock notices, and a redness at his waterline. He hasn’t slept. 

“Captain, correct me if I am wrong, but you have not slept in approximately 2.8 Earth days.”

“Jim,” he finally admonishes. “No third digit tonight, Spock?” 

Spock only stares in response. He’s being baited and he knows it, to grab it would only work against him. So, he waits and eventually Jim’s shoulders slump. He stands up and begins to pick up the larger of the broken shards of glasses. 

“The anniversary of our liberation - if you’d like to call it - is tomorrow. I’m always a little out of sorts before, really nothing to worry yourself with.” 

Spock is at Jim’s side before he can really question it. Helping him scoop the shards of glass up, knowing that if he tried to stop him entirely it would be fruitless. Jim’s hands are shaking in a way Spock loathes to see. 

“That is not ‘nothing’ Jim.” He reaches to brace Jim’s clothed shoulder, a vain attempt to steady him. It seems to do the trick though, and soon Jim stills enough to sit cross legged on the floor. 

“May I have the glass, Jim? I will dispose of it. We can deal with the rest at a later moment.”

Jim offers a single nod and drops the shards gently into Spock’s outstretched and open palms. Spock stands long enough to dispose of the glass, and then sit in Jim’s living space - a couch in front of the bed. He gestures for Jim to follow suit and he does.

“Would you like to discuss it?”

A pause and then, “would you like to hear it?”

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written or posted anything in literal years so be kind lol. I wasn't going to finish it, but college started and it was nice to have a break. I'm also thinking about turning this into a couple one shots, but I'm not sure. Anyway, hope everyone is well and socially distancing!


End file.
